Agatha
by Silvermissstt
Summary: A series of oneshots about the life of Agatha Hannigan and why she is like she is at the beginning of the 1982 Annie. I own no rights to this musical, though I would love to.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So I've begun yet another Annie fanfiction (how many times have you heard that before?), and this time it's about the life of Agatha Hannigan. I got inspiration from of my closest friends, who also has a backstory for Agatha, _When I Grow Up_. I highly suggest you read that story because it's both really sad and very eye opening and yes, please go read that. Anyways, this story will consist of oneshots of different stages of Agatha's life, that are not necessarily in chronological order. I'm having a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you have a lot of fun reading it.**

 **Also thanks to iloveyoumisshannigan for editing this story for me and for not getting mad when I started this instead of finishing TPIITP.**

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Chapter One

The clock struck twelve o'clock midnight and as it did, Agatha Hannigan sighed and downed another shot of vodka. Another three hundred and sixty five days has just passed, another three hundred and sixty five days were just beginning, and Agatha was in exactly the same position she'd been a year ago, only a bit older and a lot sadder.

Outside, dozens of people were filling the streets, all filled with optimism as 1933 rang in, but Agatha couldn't find many reasons to be happy. Well, there was one: it was the first of the month, which meant she'd be receiving her pay check soon. She could stock up on gin again in just a few days. Lucky her.

Her hands shook as she set down her pathetic stand-in shot glass and lit a cigarette. 1933. Her forty third year on this wretched planet. She'd given up long ago on the hope that life would ever be fair for her, but that didn't stop her from being envious of the little girls she lived with.

Sure, they were orphans without any actual semblance of a home, but once they turned eighteen, they could leave this dump. Agatha was stuck. Every single time she saved up even the smallest bit of money, she either wasted it on more alcohol or it went to bailing her little brother, Rooster, out of jail.

Yes. Agatha was as stuck as a piece of gum to the bottom of a shoe and she was just so incredibly tired of it. Perhaps it was the new year beginning, or perhaps it was because she'd run out of her "strong" alcohol, but she was unusually fed up with life today.

Down the hall, she could hear a commotion starting in one of the dormitories and she sighed, unsteadily getting up from her perch on her bed and walking towards the obscene noise that was doing her head in.

"What the hell is all this noise about?!" She demanded as she turned on the lights. She was instantly met with the sight of five or six (even though the vodka wasn't nearly as strong as the gin, it still made her vision blurry) little girls, each holding their respective pillows as feathers flew around them and ungracefully fell to the floor.

"We was...celebrating the new year?" One of the little girls, Kate, timidly replied.

Agatha couldn't help but laugh. "Celebrate? What the hell do you have to celebrate, kid? We're all still stuck in this dump and since you're all so keen on having pillow fights, then you may as well get a head start on your cleaning for the day."

All the girls in the dormitory let out a collective groan at this order and Agatha shot them a sharp look. "What do you say?" She asked.

"We love you, Miss Hannigan," they chorused miserably, as they got out of bed, began to get dressed, and went to work on cleaning.

Once satisfied they were all obeying her, Agatha stumbled back to her room and grabbed her bottle of vodka again. She hadn't always been so mean to the orphans. Once upon a time, she'd actually been exactly what these little girls needed...a warm, supportive mother figure.

But that time was long gone. She'd begun to heavily drink seven or eight years ago, and all the relationships she'd ruined along with it were far too broken to ever be fixed.

It was just easier to manifest her anger towards everyone - her brother for making her broke, her parents for ruining her life, herself for being a failure - as anger towards the orphans, anyways. They didn't need to love her. Would it be nice if they did? Sure. Was that going to happen? No.

Agatha had convinced herself by now that she was perfectly fine without anyone loving her anyway. It was too much of a hassle. She was lucky, she kept reminding herself. She had nobody to answer to. She didn't have to deal with any concerned siblings or boyfriends or parents taking away her gin and telling her to get sober for her own good.

She was alone, and that was the way she liked it. Who needed love?

Agatha woke up sometime later to the sound of someone pounding loudly on the front door. Rolling over, she groaned and ignored it for a few moments, hoping that whoever it was would eventually get the hint and come back later.

When the pounding continued and only got louder, Agatha quickly took a sip of her vodka before going downstairs to find none other than her little brother waiting for her outside.

"Sis." He greeted when Agatha threw open the door, kissing her on the cheek. "Happy New Year."

"Yeah, yeah, same to you." Agatha rolled her eyes, not in the mood to deal with her brother's antics when she was already irritated enough. "What the hell are you doing here, Roost?"

"I was just visiting my favourite sister. Can't I come 'round without having to have a reason?"

"I'm your only sister, Rooster. And maybe normal people don't need a reason to drop in and visit their sisters, but I know you and the only time you ever come to see me is when you need money."

"Well, now that you mention it..." Rooster lazily smiled and placed a cigarette between his teeth, "I did just get out of jail and I have almost no money to...you know, survive. Maybe you could lend me some money?"

"Roost, I don't think you understand what the word 'lend' means. Generally, when someone lends you money, it's under the assumption they'll pay you back. But you never pay me back. So, no. I don't feel like lending you money."

"Aw, Aggie, don't be like that." Rooster wrapped an arm around his sister's bony shoulder. "We Hannigans gotta look out for one another, don't we?"

"You've never looked out for me." Agatha replied bitterly as she shrugged her brother off her, "Name one good reason why I should give you any of my hard earned money other than the fact we share a mother."

"Because you love me and you want me to do well in life?" Rooster looked at his sister hopefully and Agatha sighed, rubbing her temple.

"Look, Roost, even if I wanted to lend you money, I really can't right now. I have no money left, not even enough to buy myself any more gin. So you're kinda out of luck today. Sorry."

"There's nothing you could sell?" Rooster looked around Agatha's room now, searching for anything that seemed even remotely valuable.

"Actually, there are loads of things I could sell, but unlike you, I value the things I own and I'm not going to get rid of things that are important to me just because you're an irresponsible arse."

Rooster narrowed his eyes, "Really? You can't part with one pair of earrings or a necklace? Would you really leave me on my own like that?"

"I wasn't the one who got you into jail, so why the hell should I have to be the one that gets you out of trouble? You're a grown man. Act like one."

Grabbing his sister by the arm now, Rooster spat out, "Listen up real good, sis. Either you choose something to sell, or I choose something and then some. I came here to get money and I ain't leaving without it."

Agatha bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in pain. "Okay. Alright, fine. If I give you one of my damn necklaces, will you please promise to just take it and leave? I'm already in a bad enough mood."

Rooster considered this. "Two necklaces." He countered.

"One will give you more than enough money to get by until you end up in jail next time." Agatha glared.

Rooster was quiet for a moment. "Fine. Okay. But make sure it'll be worth a lot." He let go of her arm and shoved her towards her dresser.

Agatha hastily found the most expensive necklace she owned and handed it to her brother on unsteady feet.

"Thank you." Rooster smirked, before leaving without saying another word.

As soon as her brother had left her, Agatha collapsed onto her bed and burst out into loud, sloppy tears. In less than ten minutes, she was reminded of why she drank until she couldn't stand or see straight on a daily basis: her life was ugly.

She had a little brother who made her feel about three inches tall, she lived with twenty or so odd girls who (rightfully so) hated her guts, and she was a cruel, bitter, middle-aged drunk with no friends and plenty of shattered ambitions.

She had no chance at a future and that very thought was enough to make her want to drink and drink until she passed out.

And, with nobody around to stop her, that's exactly how Agatha Hannigan spent the rest of January first 1933.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here's chapter two! Thank you guys for all the reviews so far. I know I say this in almost every author's note that I write, but I really do appreciate the feedback - both good and bad. It's helpful when I'm trying to critique my own writing so that I can make it stronger. As a side note, the names I've used for Agatha's parents are the same as the names in When I Grow Up and that's because iloveyoumisshannigan and I kind of made them up together. A HUGE thank you to her for being my editor again, as well as a thank you to markaleen for not killing me for all the pain this story has been causing her already.**

 **Wow, I can ramble on for a long time. Okay. I'm done. Here's chapter two.**

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Chapter Two

Agatha had gotten used to being alone from a very young age. Ever since she was able to feed herself, she'd been more or less on her own - for everything. Her parents just didn't have the time to take care of a small child.

Every day without fail, her mother, Beth, would get so drunk she couldn't form a coherent sentence before noon and her father, Steve, was always either at work or at the bar gambling until the wee hours of the morning. Agatha only had a handful of good memories with either of her parents and almost none with both of them.

Her only solace in life was listening to the radio. At least the hosts on her favourite program were always there and as she grew, it became the only thing that could comfort her when she was upset. Anytime her parents began to argue, she'd just turn on the radio and instantly forget about whatever it was that happened to be troubling her at the current moment.

The only time Agatha recalled being happy for more than a couple days as a child was the summer she'd turned five. All of a sudden, Beth gave up her alcohol and was altogether a very different (and much more pleasant) person to be around. Not only that, but Steve was even arriving home early from his job with bouquets of roses for Beth and baby dolls for Agatha. The change was incredibly unexpected, but at five, Agatha had learned not to question the good things that happened in her life.

Unfortunately, all this happiness lasted for only a month or so until things changed once again. Beth went back to her gin, Steve went back to his gambling, and Agatha went back to tucking herself into bed each night. When she was older, she would learn that the reason for this sudden change was her mother getting pregnant, but then having a miscarriage.

Beth got pregnant again right before the little girl turned six and even at almost forty three years old, the day she found out about her brother's impending arrival easily made it onto the list of best days in her otherwise crappy life.

"Amanda, dear, your father and I have some exciting news for you." Beth had announced when Agatha arrived home from school, a hand placed complacently on her slightly swollen abdomen.

"My name is Agatha," Agatha softly replied, a defeated frown on her small face. Beth had been the one to pick out her name for God's sake, couldn't she take the time to remember what she'd chosen for her daughter?

"That's irrelevant right now." Steve brushed it off, thought it wasn't with his usual conviction.

Agatha just shrugged and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter, biting into it. "So, what's the news?" She asked, glancing between her parents.

"I'm having a baby," Beth said, grinning widely. "You're going to be a big sister, love."

Agatha slowly set down her apple as this news set in, unsure of how to feel. She'd put "a baby brother or sister" on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as she could remember, but she didn't think Beth and Steve payed much attention to either of those. Could it be? Were her dreams finally coming true?

"Really?" The little girl asked, almost afraid to let her voice go above a whisper.

Beth's smile grew wider. "Really, dear. Come here. Feel." She gently took Agatha's tiny hands and placed them onto her stomach. Almost instantly, Agatha felt a small flutter and her eyes widened.

"Mommy," she breathed, calling Beth "mommy" for the first time in months. "You have a real actual baby in your tummy!"

Steve laughed heartily and leaned down to kiss his wife on the lips. "A real, actual baby," he replied, giving Agatha a genuine smile for perhaps the first time ever. "Well, how do you feel about that?"

Agatha was unable to contain her excitement any longer and, without even stopping to hesitate, she threw herself into her father's arms. "I feel like it's the best news ever!" She exclaimed, causing both her parents to laugh now.

"Well, that's certainly a good thing." Beth said, placing her hands on her stomach again, "because I'm going to need quite a bit of help once the baby comes."

"Mommy, is it a boy baby or a girl baby?" Agatha's face scrunched up in disgust. "I don't want a brother."

"Well, dear, I'm afraid that isn't up to me." Beth smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. "And I don't know whether it's a boy or a girl yet, but I honestly don't care as long as it's a healthy and happy baby. That'd be more than enough."

"But we _need_ a girl!" Agatha exclaimed dramatically. "I can't live with a boy! They're icky!"

"Hey?!" Steve looked mock-offended as he lifted Agatha up and tickled her.

"Daddy, stop!" Agatha giggled and wriggled in Steve's arms, secretly wishing he actually wouldn't. She couldn't recall ever feeling so free in the presence of her parents.

Maybe this new baby was exactly what the small family of three needed in order to remember what mattered most in life: the company of one another.

Agatha sighed as she flipped over onto her side and pulled a thin pillow up over her ears, tears threatening to spill out onto her cheeks.

Beth and Steve were arguing. Again. They'd been going at it for nearly two hours now, which was about an hour and a half longer than their fights usually lasted. By this point, all attempts of falling back asleep were futile.

It was almost four months after Beth has announced she was expecting again and even though home had actually been fairly tolerable for a week or two, now things between Beth and Steve hadn't ever been worse.

If Agatha was honest, she was terrified for her safety, which was a sentence she hadn't ever been able to say before. Prior to now, her parents' arguments had never escalated beyond a screaming match, but ever since Beth had had to give up her alcohol and Steve had had to give up his gambling, the two were on edge and at one another's throats almost all the time.

These days, their fights mainly consisted of throwing plates and glasses at one another as they hurled insults at the other. Agatha was terrified that one of these days, she'd be caught in the middle of one of these arguments, and that would be the end of her.

Suddenly, the little girl heard a scream so loud that it sent shivers down her tiny spine. Not long after came the sound of the front door slamming shut and then Beth beginning to sob. At this, Agatha timidly crept out of her room to find her mother seated at the kitchen table with one hand pressing a cloth to her lip and the other hastily scribbling a note as she tried not to cry.

"Mommy, did Daddy hurt you?" Agatha whispered as she crept further into the kitchen. She caught sight of blood on the cloth, gasped, and quickly ran over.

Sighing, Beth set down her pen and lifted Agatha onto her lap, kissing the top of her head. "...Yes, love. I'm afraid he did."

Agatha was horrified and she just wrapped her arms around Beth's neck. "Is he a bad person, Mommy?"

Beth quickly shook her head. "No. No, love, he absolutely isn't. I don't want you to ever think your daddy is a bad person, Agatha. Deep, deep down, he has a good heart. I'm just not quite sure how to bring that side out of him anymore."

"What're you writing?" Agatha skeptically eyed the torn piece of notebook paper her mother had been scribbling on.

Beth sighed and caressed the little girl's cheek with a small, sad smile upon her lips. "A letter, to your father. I love him so, so much,dear, but I can't justify staying here a moment longer if there is any chance he could hurt you or the baby. He's gone to the bar for the night, and by the time he arrives home, I intend for us to be gone. It's for the best."

"Gone...? Gone where?" Agatha was confused, "Are we gonna go on vacation?"

Beth held Agatha close. "No, darling. I mean that we're leaving your father...for good. Now, why don't you go and pack your belongings while I finish this up?"

Agatha burst into tears. "No! We can't leave Daddy! You married him and you can't leave him just because you're angry! What about the baby? Baby needs a mommy and a daddy, and so do I!"

"Aggie, love, please listen to me." Beth gently wiped away a tear, "I know this is hard. It's hard for me, too, but if your daddy can hurt me as badly as he did tonight, then he could do the exact same to you and it's just not safe for us. I'd never be able to forgive myself if he hurt you. Leaving is only for the best."

Agatha went quiet for a few minutes, simply letting tears drop down her cheeks and onto her oversized nightgown. "Mommy..." She finally said, her voice barely audible, "I'm scared."

Beth just held the little girl close. "I know, love. I know, but you know what? We're still going to have each other, baby. As long as you have me, you're safe, Agatha. I promise you."

Agatha kissed her mother's cheek. "Okay, Mommy."

Beth chuckled and set her daughter on the floor. "Good girl. Now, will you please pack while I finish this up? Try to pack as many outfits of yours as you can."

The little girl nodded and timidly pattered back to her room, finding a small tote bag on her closet floor and sifting through the bottom drawers of her dresser to pick out the outfits that fit her the best. Unfortunately, she couldn't find that many, but Agatha decided not to dwell on that fact. They'd be fine. A dirty outfit or two never killed anyone.

Agatha glanced around her tiny bedroom and sighed at all the stuffed animals and dolls she'd acquired in her six years. For as much as her parents seemed to despise her very existence, she wasn't neglected in the slightest as far as material objects went. She'd have to leave all the toys here, though. There was no way any would fit in her bag and the last thing she wanted was to have to carry them around to wherever she and Beth were going.

Well, it wasn't as if she'd ever had much of a chance to grow attached to them in the first place. They certainly wouldn't be missed.

"Mommy, I'm ready." Agatha announced as she walked back into the kitchen and dragged her tote bag at her feet.

Beth gave Agatha a weak smile and finished writing her letter to Steve. "Okay, love. Just give me a couple minutes to get my things together and then we can go."

Within fifteen minutes, the two were walking down the cold New York streets at almost two in the morning with their hearts on their sleeves. Agatha was beyond exhausted beyond this point, but she clung tight to her mother's hand and desperately tried to keep herself together for Beth's sake. Even at her young age, she was well aware that the last thing her mother needed in her fragile state was a tired, crying child to console.

It wasn't her fault that her husband had turned into a violent, gambling mess, it wasn't her fault that they were living in poverty, and it sure as hell wasn't her fault that all these issues were coming to a head while she was pregnant. It was just the way her unfortunate cookie crumbled.

If Beth was honest, she had no clue what she was to do now. All she knew when she'd decided to leave was that she needed to get herself and Agatha out of the house and away from Steve. Her daughter's safety was her top priority. But, they had virtually no money and no family to take them in, so they were homeless. It was a terrifying thought, to say the least. A pregnant woman and a little girl out on the streets in the middle of winter? What the hell were they to do?

It definitely helped that Agatha was still small enough to believe in her, even after all the promises she'd broken. At least someone thought she was capable of doing the right thing. Maybe if she herself believed it long enough, it'd come true.

Well, she had to hope.

For the next three and a half months, Beth and Agatha jumped around from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, always starving and grateful for even the smallest scrap of food that came their way. They'd even spent a few nights sleeping on park benches and buses if the shelter got too crowded.

While it was far from the ideal life, there were some definite benefits that came from leaving Steve. Agatha was just thrilled to be around her mother and ever since leaving, they'd been getting along just the way Agatha had always dreamed of. Without having a husband to care for, Beth was able to devote herself completely to being the best mother she could to Agatha.

For once, the woman needed her daughter more than her daughter needed her. If it weren't for having Agatha around, Beth would've lost herself in all the despair, grief, and guilt she was swimming in. Her hormones were already all over the place from being pregnant, but add in the mix adjusting to sobriety and being without someone reliable to lean on, and Beth was a mess.

She hadn't heard a single word from her husband in nearly two months and it was driving her insane. Steve had found the two of them at one of the homeless shelters not long after they'd left and while Beth was expecting to be begged for forgiveness, what Steve had to say was far from an apology.

He'd ended up threatening his wife with taking Agatha and the baby once he or she was born and informing her that if she dared to step a single foot on "his property" he'd call the police on her immediately. He was over her, though he refused to agree to a divorce, since it wasn't what "good, Christian men with morals" did.

After the meeting with her husband, Beth was in a word, terrified. It was almost as if she had no say over her own life anymore. She was stuck in a marriage that was nonexistent except for on some wretched sheets of paper. No guy would want to date a married woman, no matter what the circumstances were.

It all hurt so much, every word Steve had uttered to her. She'd devoted seventeen of her thirty-three years to making him happy and to know he didn't love her even half as much as she did him was like a punch in the gut. Where the hell had she gone wrong?

After a few days of self-pity, though, Beth decided that she needed to pull herself together. She couldn't afford to dwell on what was now her past. She needed to move towards her future, which was Agatha and the new baby on the way. She had to fix her children's broken family to the best of her ability.

And...the first step towards achieving that goal was staying sober even after the baby was born. Over the last eight months, she'd realised that even though Agatha was used to doing everything on her own, it wasn't fair to the little girl at all. She was just that - a little girl - and Beth was determined to make sure Steve's absence in her life was more of a blessing than a curse.

It was the only job she had left to do, and she'd be damned if she failed at it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Beth silently took a sip of her chamomile tea and glared at the pile of bills stacked high in front of her, her blood pressure quickly rising to a dangerous level. Paying bills was the part of being a single parent that she despised the most. It was stressful as all hell, and probably something she shouldn't be worrying about at almost two am, but here she was.

Agatha and Daniel were pretty well-behaved, at least as far as kids went, but that didn't help her when she needed someone around to watch them while she was at work. Agatha was only eight; it'd just be plain neglectful to ask her to care for a two year old. But Beth's work schedule was almost always up in the air and finding a babysitter who was both flexible and didn't mind being paid little to nothing was a daunting task.

She'd started a new job waitressing just a month and a half ago, and already she'd had to call in sick four times. First, Agatha had come down with a nasty stomach bug, then Daniel had caught it from her, then their babysitter, and finally, to top off the chain of unfortunate events, Agatha sprained her ankle while jump-roping. Beth's job was undoubtedly on the line, but what choice did she have? She was a mother first, and after everything with Steve, being there for her kids took precedence over anything else.

Beth also felt horrid for complaining so much. Their life could be so much worse. At least now they had a stable roof over their heads. At least now their stays in random homeless shelters were a thing of the past. At least now Beth was sober and she'd gained back the trust of her daughter.

But how much longer could they go on like this? The last thing Beth wanted was to be one of those mothers who only saw their children right before bedtime, on the weekend, and at holidays. That was no way for any child to live, and it was already starting. Daniel had turned two not too long ago, and according to Agatha, he was calling their babysitter, Trish "Mommy." It broke Beth's heart.

All she wanted was to be there for her kids unconditionally, but the price to pay was homelessness. Which was the lesser of two evils?

From her small bedroom down the hall, Beth could hear Daniel beginning to cry now and she quickly downed the last of her tea before getting up to see what the matter was. The baby was standing in his crib when she arrived and the woman smiled as she lifted him up and kissed his head. "Hey, kiddo, what's the matter?" She whispered gently.

Daniel whimpered and tugged at his mother's hair with a surprising amount of force for someone so little. Beth chuckled, and after checking him over to make sure he didn't need to be changed or was hurt, she carried him into the kitchen and began to prepare a bottle for him. Trish had mentioned he fell asleep before dinner tonight, so it was no wonder that he was hungry now. Beth actually didn't mind these late night feedings with Daniel the way she had with Agatha. She was so busy all the time, so any moment she got alone with him (even if it was late and she was tired), she cherished. It wasn't as if she'd be sleeping anyways.

"Alright, lovey, let's get you back to sleep," Beth whispered once Daniel had finished, holding him close as she walked back into their room and settled down in the rocking chair she'd received from one of the ladies at the homeless shelter.

When they'd finally gotten back on their feet soon after Daniel was born, Beth wanted to find an apartment with a separate room for all three of them, but finding an affordable and safe one had been nearly impossible, so Beth had resigned to sharing a room with her son until he was a bit older.

Again, she didn't mind it all that much. Some mothers, her own included, had a strong belief that sharing any space with their child was wrong, but Beth just didn't see it that way. She didn't need space to be happy, and being crowded sure as hell beat being lonely any day of the year. Her and Daniel's room was actually her favourite in the whole of their tiny apartment.

Back when she'd been with Steve, her bedroom had been the place where strictly arguments, sex, and sleep had occurred. It was a place of tension and hatred and Beth hated it. Now, her bedroom was her safe place. It was where she spent time with her children, and it was where she felt calmest.

Now that she was reliably sober, Agatha had learned to let her guard down. She'd realised that she wasn't alone anymore, and now nine out of ten nights, she could be found sleeping in Beth's bed. This was just another indication to the woman that getting sober had been her best decision yet. She was finally forming a bond with the little girl she'd given birth to eight years ago.

For now, all was well in the Hannigan household.

* * *

"Mommy, please don't go to work today! It's a Saturday, and you're supposed to be spending time with me on Saturdays! You said I wouldn't have to see the dumb babysitter on the weekend, Mommy! You _promised_!" Agatha whined as she followed Beth into her room.

"Agatha, please be quiet," Beth replied, exasperated, "Daniel is taking a nap and he needs to get his rest. I'm sorry that I have to work today, but you can stay up until I get home, alright?"

Agatha plopped down on her mother's bed. "No, it's _not_ alright! You promised not to work on the weekends, and now you're leaving me again! It ain't fair!

Beth sighed and finished putting in her earrings before kneeling down to the little girl's level. "Aggie, love, I don't create my own schedule and I really can't afford to miss another day of work for a long while. I know you aren't the biggest fan of Trish, but she comes to care for you and Daniel, and I still want you to be polite to her. I'm sorry I can't keep my promise, dear, but we need the money."

Agatha bit her lip now, feeling silly for being so selfish. She was letting herself get far too attached to Beth, and she knew that she was only setting herself up for disappointment. No matter how many times Beth tried to prove otherwise, the only person Agatha could depend on was herself. "It's okay..." She whispered as tears began to form on her eyes.

"Oh, sweetie..." Beth gasped. Agatha rarely cried, so her absence must have really been taking a toll on the girl. She pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. "I know it's hard not having me around. I wish more than anything there was something I could do to make this all a bit easier, but I just can't. Hopefully soon, I'll get on a steadier work schedule and I'll be able to spend more time with you kids. Until then, I really need you to be patient and roll with the punches."

The little girl nodded and wiped away her tears. "Okay, Mommy. I can do that. I'm sorry for crying."

Beth hugged her tighter. "Shh. Don't apologise. I'm so glad that you told me how you're feeling. I love you."

"I love you, Mommy."

The doorbell rang now and Agatha gave her mother one last hug before running off to get the door. Beth sighed again and wiped away at her own tears before walking over to Daniel's crib and leaning down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Once done, she grabbed her coat and headed downstairs.

"Thank you for coming over again today, Trish." She said as she hurriedly slipped it on. "I'm sorry to ruin your Saturday. My shift shouldn't go past nine, and I've given Agatha permission to stay up until I arrive home. Daniel is asleep, and he will need to eat when he wakes up, but other than that, there isn't much you need to do."

Trish smiled. "No worries, Ms. Hannigan. I've got it all covered."

Agatha was standing in the doorway of the living room, her arms crossed and tears still on her eyes, and when Beth caught sight of her, she felt a small twinge of guilt. She really didn't want to leave the poor little girl when she was so obviously upset, but she didn't have much of a say in the matter. They needed the money, and she couldn't lose her job.

Sighing, she walked over to Agatha and picked her up, kissing her cheek. "Alright, love, I've got to get going now. Be good for Trish and help her with Daniel if she needs it, okay? I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you."

"I love you, Mommy." Agatha whispered, wrapping her arms around Beth's neck and clinging on tight.

Another twinge of guilt. Beth squeezed the little girl and gently set her down on the floor, knowing that if she lingered any longer, her emotions would get the better of her and she'd never make it to work. After kissing Agatha's forehead, Beth hurried out the door without saying another word, all the while holding back her own tears at the unfairness of it all.

* * *

Beth couldn't get her mind off her exchange with Agatha for the rest of the night. It hurt her so much to know that her daughter was so unhappy, but she had to take the hours her manager gave her. Agatha didn't realise that, though. Even though the little girl liked to take matters into her own hands and pretend as if she knew how adults acted and thought, she just couldn't. She was only eight. All that mattered to her right now was that Beth was leaving her alone with the babysitter once again. All that mattered was that she'd broken another promise.

It made her feel like a horrid mother, but if she didn't give her waitressing job her all, they'd surely be homeless again. Beth just couldn't risk that. She needed to give her kids the best possible life she could, even if that meant her working on the weekends while Agatha wasn't at school.

"Beth, where the hell is your head at tonight?!" Beth's manager, Derek Michaels, suddenly demanded, interrupting the woman's train of thought. "Table seven has been waiting for their drinks for fifteen minutes, and they aren't going to serve themselves!"

Beth abruptly snapped her head up and her stomach dropped when she caught sight of Derek's not-so-pleased expression. "I'm sorry, sir..." She sheepishly replied, beginning to fill up the glasses. "I just have a lot on my mind. I'll take care of it right now." She picked up her tray and began to walk towards the table, but Derek took her by the arm and halted her.

"Beth, I think we need to talk. I know you have a lot going on at home right now, and I'm sorry about that, but when you're here, your attention needs to be on work. I can't have my employees being as distracted as you are. You need to keep your work life and your home life separate, and I've made that quite clear a few times now."

Beth gulped and nodded. "I know, sir. I'm sorry. I'll make sure that it doesn't happen again."

Derek shook his head. "Beth, I've been very patient with you given your situation. You seem like a wonderful person and a great mother, but I'm not sure this job is the right fit for you anymore. I think I'm going to have to let you go."

Beth's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, please, sir. I promise to be more focused from now on. I won't let my personal life interfere with this job anymore. I promise. Just please don't fire me."

Derek shook his head. "I'm sorry, Beth, but my first priority is making sure that my customers are happy. You have a strong work ethic, but you have too much going on right now and I can't rely on you the way I need to. I'd be happy to give you a recommendation."

Beth simply nodded and, fighting back tears, she handed Derek her apron and grabbed her purse before rushing out of the restaurant. She couldn't believe what had just happened. This was the third job she'd been let go from in six months and she really couldn't see anyone hiring her now based on that fact alone.

What the hell was she going to do? They had maybe thirty dollars saved up in the bank at the moment, and with the expenses of food, clothing, and other necessities, Beth didn't think that would last them more than a week. They were screwed.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was only seven. Her shift had started less than two hours ago and the thought of going home early to their apartment and breaking the news to Agatha made her sick to her stomach. Instead, she caught sight of the bar across the street, and before she knew it, she was walking inside.

She knew the key to staying sober was keeping herself as far away from alcohol as possible, but with all the stress that was building up, she just didn't care anymore. She'd been keeping it together for too long. She needed an escape.

* * *

Agatha bit her lip, drawing blood, as she worriedly glanced at the clock above the stove again. To her dismay, less than a minute had passed since she last looked. She was exhausted, and worried sick. By now, it was well past one in the morning and Beth still wasn't home. Trish had left around ten, because even though she'd agreed to babysit for the night, she was only sixteen and her mother had forced her to come home.

Because Trish had parents that cared for her. Unlike Agatha.

No. That wasn't fair to Beth, she kept reminding herself. Her mother wasn't the same person she'd been before Daniel came along. That person was mean, vulgar, and drunk. The person Beth was now was sober, loving, and kind. There were a million reasons as to why she wasn't home yet, and Agatha just knew it couldn't be because she was drunk. Her mother wouldn't do that to her.

But, ten minutes later, the front door burst open and the moment it did, Agatha's nose was assaulted with the overwhelming stench of alcohol, smoke, and vomit. The little girl instantly knew where her mother had been: the bar. And if the smell wasn't enough evidence, the way Beth was stumbling sure was.

Before her mother even had the chance to explain herself, Agatha ran off to her room in tears and hid under her covers. The all-too-familiar feeling of being alone was back, and she was wondering why she'd ever let herself fall for her mother's games. Beth was a drunk, and no length of time sober was going to ever change that. It didn't matter that she'd gone almost three years without a single drunken episode. She had relapsed and all at once, Agatha was once again an afterthought to her mother's bottles of gin.

Why had she ever let herself believe she was loved?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Aggie? Aggie, wake up," Rooster whispered as he tiptoed over to his sister's bed and shook her.

Agatha was startled awake by this and she quickly rolled over to flip on her bedside lamp. "Roost? What's the matter, kiddo?"

The boy sniffled. "Aggie, Mommy's sick! I woke up to get some water and she was sleeping on the floor! I couldn't wake her, Aggie. I'm scared."

Agatha immediately pulled her brother in for a hug. "Shh, Roost. Don't worry. I'll sort her out. Just go back to sleep now. You've got nothing to worry about."

Rooster looked up at his sister, completely unconvinced. He was only six, but he was still smart enough to know when his mother was in trouble, even he wasn't aware of the full extent. "Aggie..."

"Shh." Agatha replied, lifting her brother up and carrying him over to his bed on the other side of the room. "It's way too late for you to be up. Sleep."

"Will Mommy be okay?" Rooster's voice trembled and Agatha leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"She'll be just fine, Roost. I promise you. I've got this under control."

She could tell by the look in her brother's eyes that he was still unconvinced, but luckily Rooster decided to save his questions for later and settled underneath his covers. Once satisfied he was sleeping soundly, Agatha decided she had better check on her mother, if only for the sake of telling her off.

It wasn't a rare occasion that Beth end up passing out these days, but Agatha had somehow been able to keep Rooster away from all of that for the most part. It still hurt her so much that she meant less to Beth than a bottle of gin, but she'd come to terms with that fact long ago. For now, her main priorities were making sure her brother was protected from the pain she'd had to endure for twelve years, and doing well in school.

Beth was, indeed, passed out when Agatha walked into their tiny kitchen, but for the first time ever, it wasn't on the sofa or a chair. She was passed out in the middle of the kitchen floor with an empty gin bottle near her head and the sight simply terrified Agatha. Most of the time, her mother at least had the decency to pass out in her room. Agatha suspected the reason for this was that somewhere, deep down, her mother felt remorse for her alcoholism. In fact, this hope was the only thing that kept her from hating her mother.

Agatha sighed now and knelt down beside Beth, lifting up the bottle and setting it on the counter before gently shaking her awake.

"Mom, get up and get into bed." She whispered, trying to keep herself from getting too angry.

Beth quickly woke up. "Huh?" She mumbled, her breath reeking of gin.

"You passed out again," Agatha replied drily, "And now you need to go to bed. Come on. I'll help you."

The girl stood and extended her hand to Beth, who took it and clumsily got up. Agatha supported her mother as they walked down the hall into Beth's room. Once there, she laid her down and covered her with a sheet, and in an instant, Beth was out cold once more, and even though Agatha was livid with her for hurting her and Rooster so much, she still kissed her forehead.

Walking back into the kitchen, the twelve-year-old wondered how on earth she'd gotten such an unlucky life and a horrid family. She sure as hell didn't think that she deserved it.

For the most part, she was a good person. Sure, she didn't always complete her homework on time, and sometimes she had an attitude, but at least she had morals. She was smart, and she was relatively pretty, so why had she been cursed with the world's worst parents?

She'd had to raise her little brother for almost all his life, which she didn't exactly mind, but she wished, for Rooster's sake, that Beth was more like the mothers Agatha read about in her books. Poor Rooster deserved a mother that was loving and kind, and even though she wished for it every opportunity she could, Agatha just couldn't give that to him.

She was planning to move out with her brother the day she turned eighteen, but that was a long five and a half years away. Five and a half more years of this?

Agatha wasn't sure that she could do it.

...

Agatha was rudely awoken the next morning by banging her head against the kitchen table. She was disoriented for a moment, wondering why she wasn't in her room, before she realised she must've fallen asleep here after taking care of Beth. She yawned and looked around the kitchen, grimacing at how bright the sun was.

Today was Saturday, which meant that Agatha didn't have anywhere she needed to be. She'd finished all her homework yesterday, and she had no other obligations, which would be great news if she were a regular kid in a regular home, but she wasn't, and boredom was almost equivalent to torture for Agatha.

She hated not being busy because that meant she had time to think and thinking surfaced all her anger. So much of her life was spent trying to focus on the good in life, and at twelve, Agatha had learned the key to mastering this skill was keeping herself occupied. This was why reading was her favourite thing to do. At least with books, she could choose whether she wanted to read something happy or sad.

Her entire life was so ugly that if she wasn't stuck in the middle of it, she'd run as far away as humanly possible. The only reason her father was still in her life was because he refused to grant Beth the divorce she'd been begging for, despite the fact that the two hadn't been in the same room for almost seven years. Well, at least he did one good thing for them: he gave Beth two hundred dollars every other month to put towards Agatha and Rooster.

After losing her job at the restaurant, Beth had almost completely given up on her sobriety. Sometimes she had streaks where she went a couple days to a week without any alcohol, but those occasions were few and far between as of the last six months.

Her mother was in a dangerous downward spiral and Agatha was scared to death. Drinking this much had to be detrimental to Beth's health and as much as she despised the person her mother had become, that didn't mean Agatha wanted her to die, either.

Maybe they weren't exactly happy living with Beth, but at least she and Rooster were safe. If, God forbid, Beth were to pass away, she and Rooster would have no choice but to move in with Steve and Agatha couldn't guarantee her little brother's safety in a situation like that. She didn't care so much about herself, but Rooster was so helpless and she wanted to do the one thing nobody had ever done for her: protect him.

"Aggie, what are you doing up so early?" Rooster asked now, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway. "It's not even eight! We don't have school today, do we?"

Agatha hid a yawn. "Nah, I just couldn't sleep. Don't worry. But...what are you doing up? You hate the morning."

Rooster gestured to the window above the kitchen sink. "It was really sunny in our room, so I woke up, and then you weren't in bed. I was worried."

Agatha got up and walked over to her brother, giving him a hug. 'It's my job to worry, Roost, not yours. Anyways, you know I really can't ever get a good night's of rest, so it's better for me to be out here." She ruffled his hair. "Are you hungry?"

The little boy cautiously looked towards the pantry. "Mommy didn't go to the store yet, so we don't have any food, Aggie. You knew that."

The way Rooster said this, as if it were an occurrence that every child had to deal with, broke Agatha's heart. Her brother was so grown up already, and he, out of anyone she knew, deserved a childhood.

"I'm sure that there's something we can have," Agatha said after a bit, walking over to the pantry and opening the door. She knew there wasn't much in there, but surely there was something she could make for a meal.

Much to her dismay, though, all that was left was a box of rice well past its expiration date and about ten bottles of Beth's gin.

"See?" Rooster said defeatedly. "Nothing to eat."

Agatha turned around and immediately caught sight of her mother's purse. She began to walk over to it and after digging around in it for a moment or two, she pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Problem solved, Roost. We'll just go to the store and get some food."

Rooster looked horrified. "Mommy's gonna be mad."

Agatha shrugged, beyond caring about what her mother felt by this point. "Who cares? Ain't like she'll miss it."

...

"Agatha Hannigan, get your ass in here!" Beth demanded loudly from the kitchen, slurring heavily as she did so.

Agatha groaned and set down her book on her bed. She'd just begun to get into it, and now Beth was interrupting her.

"What is it, Mom?" The girl asked as she walked in, slightly apprehensive. Beth almost never got angry with her.

"There's ten dollars missing from my purse, and I know for damn sure that it was there last night before I went to bed. You wanna explain what the hell happened?"

Agatha signed. "We had no food for breakfast this morning, and I wasn't about to let Rooster starve. We went to the store and stocked up the pantry again."

"I wish you wouldn't use that ridiculous nickname," Beth rolled her eyes, "and I'll have you know that that was the last of your father's money for the month. That was the last of my gin money. What the hell am I supposed to do now?!"

Agatha couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Mom, we have no food! We would've starved if I hadn't taken that money this morning. Don't you care?!"

Beth took a seat now, already too drunk to stand for too long. "You know that I'm not working, Agatha, so the money that your father sends to me is used for buying my gin. What the hell am I supposed to drink if I have no gin, huh? Water?" She spat out this last word as if it were poison on her lips.

"Why not? Maybe if you got sober, then you'd realise how miserable your kids are, and you'd finally do something about it."

Agatha never spoke this boldly, but she was just plain tired of playing mommy to Rooster and having to walking on eggshells around Beth so that she wouldn't get upset.

Beth narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare speak to me in such a disrespectful fashion, young lady. I am your mother."

Agatha was too angry to slow down and think before she spoke. "You sure as hell don't act like it! I'm fairly sure mothers aren't supposed to get so drunk that they can't even remember their own kids names, but here you are. You don't give a damn about me or Rooster - that's right, I call him Rooster because he hates Daniel - and you can't even pretend that you do."

Beth was quiet for a minute or two, carefully forming her next sentence. "Don't you give me that bullshit, Agatha. If I didn't care, I'd have given you two up to an orphanage long ago. Stop being such a drama queen."

"We'd be a hell of a lot better off if we were in an orphanage. I have no idea why the hell Rooster still loves you; you've never even had a conversation with him. You're a stupid, worthless, drunk and that's all you'll ever be."

Beth's face went an interesting and terrifying shade of red. "Agatha, you go to your room right this instant. You have no place in talking things about things you have no damn clue about."

Agatha scoffed. "You can't pretend that you're an actual mother whenever it's convenient to you, you know. I don't have to listen to you."

"Do you even know how hard it is to be a mother?! My whole life is dedicated to you kids and making sure you're okay. It's exhausting."

"Yeah, and I'm sure that drinking gin to the point where you pass out is just the thing to make it all easier. I'm surprised that all mothers don't do that. You're clearly an expert."

"Shut the hell up, Agatha. You have no idea what I'm going through with either the two of you or your piece of shit, useless father!"

Agatha just rolled her eyes, knowing that she wasn't having the slightest impact on her mother. "Whatever, Mom. I'll pay you back the ten dollars from what I have in my piggy bank, so you can get more gin. Don't worry about anything else. It's obviously more than you can handle."

With this, Agatha got up and stomped back into her and Rooster's room, where her little brother was sat wide-eyed on his bed.

"I told you that Mommy would be mad," He whispered as she sat beside him.

"So what? It was worth it. At least now we have food. And I honestly don't think she'll even remember this when she sobers up."

Rooster looked down, "Aggie, why does Mommy drink so much?"

Agatha sighed . "I just think she's really, really sad and confused, kiddo, and she doesn't know what to do anymore."

The little boy frowned. "I wish she didn't."

Agatha pulled him in for a hug. "Me too, kid. Me too."

...

Things between Beth and Agatha were tense for the next few days, and, except for the radio program Beth always put on at four, the house was dead silent. This wasn't exactly new to Agatha, since she always had to be quiet when her mother was hungover, but this silence was different and more hurtful than what she was used to because she knew she was the cause of it. She wanted things to be back like they always were - Beth ignoring her kids because she was drunk, and not because she was angry or hurt - but Agatha was stubborn and she wasn't going to apologise for what she'd said. Perhaps it was a bit harsh, but it was the truth and Beth needed to hear it.

That didn't exactly make it any easier for Agatha, though. She was used to being angry with her mother; she'd been that way for the majority of her life, but never before had Beth been angry with her and it was plain weird. It also wasn't fair to Rooster. He shouldn't have had to pay the price for their argument, but he was. Agatha felt horrid, but she'd gotten her father's stubbornness and she wasn't going to be the first to say sorry.

All this changed, though, when Agatha and Rooster arrived home from school on Monday. The first thing Agatha noticed was that the house had been cleaned (well, at least the kitchen had),and then she noticed a trail of tissues coming from her mother's bedroom. After telling Rooster to stay put, she cautiously walked into Beth's room and found her mother huddled under her covers, a bottle of gin in one hand and a tissue in the other.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Agatha asked, her voice wavering.

Beth's head snapped up and after shakily setting her bottle down, she handed a stack of papers to Agatha. Confused, Agatha quickly read over them and realised with a sinking heart that they were papers calling for a custody hearing from none other than the one and only, Steven James Hannigan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: This chapter has been finished for weeks now, so there's really no good reason why I haven't posted it aside from the fact that I'm lazy and I've encountered a bit of writer's block lately. I think I'm through the worst of it, though, and I'm excited to continue on with this story (the next few chapters are going to be pretty painful, just saying). Sorry for keeping you all waiting!**

 **Thanks to iloveyoumisshannigan and markaleen for dealing with me and my indecisive nature.**

* * *

Chapter Five

The first thing Agatha felt after reading these papers was shock. Her father was asking for custody of her and Rooster now, after all these years spent apart? That didn't seem right at all. The only reason Steve was still in their lives at all was because of the checks he sent to Beth every month and he was required by the state to prove those. Agatha was pretty sure that if he wasn't, he'd have been long gone by now. Hell, she hadn't ever received a single birthday card or letter from the man and he'd only ever seen Rooster once, on the day he was born. That had just been a case of incredibly lucky timing on Steve's part, for he was visiting one of his flings on the exact day Beth had gone into labor.

The second thing Agatha felt was raging anger. Who the hell was Steve to just send these papers and waltz back into their lives as if nothing bad had ever happened? He'd been the sole reason why she and Beth were forced to leave and no excuse he had lined up would ever convince her otherwise. He was an asshole, plain and simple.

Sure, she'd only been six when she and Beth left, so she didn't exactly have the best memory about her home before then, but she knew from listening in on Beth's conversations with other women at the homeless shelters that the night they left hadn't been the only occasion where Steve was physically abusive to his wife. Apparently, her parents' relationship had always been rocky. Agatha had no idea why Beth still loved Steve after everything he'd put her though, but she sure as hell had no feeling other than hatred for him.

When she really thought about it, Steve was responsible for the majority of her problems. He'd caused them to have to leave, which caused her, Beth and eventually Rooster's homelessness, which caused Beth to have to pick up a job, which caused her to lose three jobs in a row, which caused her to relapse, which caused her mother to be the person she was today, which caused Agatha to have to raise Rooster. She wasn't by any means excusing her mother's behaviour, but she was far angrier with Steve than she was with Beth.

All feelings of love she'd ever had for her father was long gone now. In fact, Agatha didn't even consider him to be her father anymore. He was just some guy who she unfortunately shared half her DNA with. That, and nothing more.

Beth cleared her throat now and looked up at Agatha, unable to meet her eye. "Aggie...please sit." She gestured to the foot of her bed as she sat up a bit straighter. "After our...our argument the other night, I think we need to have a chat, yes?"

Agatha nodded slowly and took the spot Beth was gesturing to, trying with all her might to ignore the strong scent of gin radiating off her mother. "Yeah?" She asked.

Beth smiled and gently took Agatha's hand. "Aggie, I don't think I can ever express how sorry I am for everything I've done since Daniel came along. Every word you said to me the other night - how I don't really act like a mother, and how I'm a stupid, worthless drunk - it was all true." Her eyes filled with tears. "Every single damn word. And I had no right to get angry with you. It's my own fault, and I know that you think I don't give a damn about you or Daniel, but I really, really do. I promise, love. I care a lot."

Agatha swallowed, unsure of what to say in return. On the one hand, all she wanted to do was fling herself into her mother's arms and never let go, but on the other hand, she knew she had to be cautious. Maybe her mother was feeling remorseful now, but that didn't mean much of anything to her. There was nothing stopping Beth from forgetting all about this later on and going straight back to her old ways. Perhaps the best thing for her to do was keep her distance.

Taking in her daughter's face, Beth sighed and began to speak again. "I know you aren't going to forgive me that easily," She said. "And that's okay. You need time. But I promise to you, love, that things are going to be different from now on. I guess getting these papers made me realise just how much you two mean to me, which I know is a horrid thing. But I want to change. I want to be sober again. I really do."

"Mom..." Agatha's voice trembled. "Why'd you start drinking? The first time, I mean."

Beth sighed and eyed the bottle of gin on her nightstand for a moment, debating whether or not to take a sip, before refraining herself. Now was not the time. "...You'd just been born six months earlier, and you weren't exactly the most cooperative baby in the world. We had almost no money and your dad was always yelling at me for not getting a job, telling me I was a lazy whore...even though I had a baby and I was severely sleep deprived. Then one night, he slapped me because I'd gone off on him, and I was just done. I went out to the bar so I could get the fight out of my head. I'd always stayed away from alcohol because both my parents were alcoholics, but I didn't care that night, and I just...I guess I just got hooked."

Agatha looked down once her mother was finished, her anger and hatred for Steve growing a thousand times stronger. She was wrong. He wasn't responsible for the majority of her problems; he was responsible for all of them. He'd ruined her mother's life. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Mom. I had no idea."

Beth smiled weakly. "It isn't your place, love, to take care of me. It's alright. I've gotten sober before and I can do it again. I wanted to start today, but then the mail came and I saw those-" she gestured to the papers, "-and I couldn't handle it. I've always been so afraid of losing you kids, and now it's an actual possibility. I'm scared to death. I don't think I'd ever be able to manage with you and your brother being gone. I love you both so much it hurts."

At hearing this last sentence, Agatha began to cry and, forgetting all her previous reservations, she threw herself at Beth and nearly toppled her over. "I'm sorry, Mom, for all the crap Dad's put you through. I love you so much, and I'll do everything I can to help."

Beth held on tight to her daughter for a good five or so minutes, simply letting her tears drip into Agatha's knotted hair. "I'm so sorry, love. I promise to get better so I can be more active in your and your brother's life. It's probably going to be a while before I'm completely sober, but I promise to try my hardest."

Agatha pulled back from the embrace now and hesitantly glanced at the bottle of gin on her mother's nightstand. "Well, maybe you could start by getting rid of some of your alcohol? Like, the rest of that bottle?"

Beth thought for a moment and was just about to deny her daughter's request before she took another look at Agatha's face. Whether she liked it or not, this was what she had to do. "...Please," She whispered, unable to make eye contact with either Agatha or the bottle.

Agatha smiled widely and got up, taking the gin into her mother's bathroom and pouring it down the sink. Beth watched silently, the whole process being oddly empowering and disempowering at the exact same time. It was nice to see Agatha still cared about her, but now she only had two bottles left and she'd become so dependent on the alcohol that the thought of being without it was physically terrifying.

As Agatha came back into her mother's room, she smiled and sat down once more, taking Beth's cold hands. "One bottle gone, only a few left to go. See, Mom? You can do this."

Beth smiled sadly. "My sweet, sweet girl, how on earth did you ever become so thoughtful and mature?" She gently caressed Agatha's face. "Thank you."

Agatha leaned forward and kissed her mother on the forehead. "I love you, Mom. Now. Come on, let's go check on Rooster and make dinner."

Beth tensed up at the mention of her son. It had been hard enough to work up the courage to apologise to Agatha, but she'd never had a conversation with Rooster past a bit of small talk or yelling when she was really drunk. She was afraid that their relationship was beyond repair and she didn't exactly want to find out if she was right or not,

"...Maybe it's better if you do that alone, dear..." She said, "I mean, I'm sure your brother isn't my biggest fan..."

Agatha looked confused. "What?"

Beth shrugged. "Agatha. Let's be real here. He's what, six? He won't understand."

Agatha smiled and grabbed her mother by the hand, pulling her up. "Come on, Mom. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you're up and partially sober."

Beth reluctantly nodded and let herself be led into the living room, where Rooster was sitting on the couch and eating an apple. The moment he saw Beth and Agatha, though, he jumped up and hastily smoothed out his clothes, knowing from previous experience that the only reason his mother left her room was to get food or yell.

"It's alright, love," Beth said, calmly smiling at her son. "I'm not going to yell. I promise. I just...can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

A tiny bit apprehensive, Rooster nodded and Beth came over to sit on the couch as Agatha watched silently from the doorway. Maybe she'd been let down a lot by her mother, but she could tell Beth was serious about getting and staying sober. Maybe things were finally going to start looking up.

* * *

Agatha was unable to sleep that night, her conversation with her mother from earlier on in the day running around in circles in her head. Now that she knew more about why Beth drank and how her father had played such a large role in her alcoholism, she felt so horrid for her mother. She used to think that Beth was simply a bad person, but she wasn't. She'd just fallen in love with a man who was equivalent to any other criminal out there. Besides the physical abuse, he hadn't done anything directly illegal, but he'd broken his wife to the point of self destruction and that was just as bad. Because of Steve, Beth was a drunk and she'd been absent from almost all of Rooster's life and more than half of Agatha's.

Agatha was just thankful that Rooster was so young and he didn't really get everything that was going on. He was a happy kid and after Beth had explained things in terms he could understand, Rooster quickly forgave her for being 'nasty', as he'd put it.

It was such a relief for both Agatha and Beth that he had no hard feelings towards his mother, especially since he had every right to be angry with her. In fact, the boy was so excited about finally getting attention from Beth that he requested to sleep in her bed and although she was initially reluctant, Beth was eventually unable to deny this request.

Another reason why Agatha couldn't sleep was because she was just so excited to have Beth be sober again. Her mother was a lovely person when sober, and she was so glad that person was coming back. She'd missed her dearly.

* * *

Over the next week, the atmosphere in Beth, Agatha and Rooster's apartment had significantly changed. What was once an old, quiet, chilly, and far too tidy apartment now seemed brand new, full of life, warm and as messy as any child deserved it to be. The perpetually lingering smell of gin was now gone and perhaps Agatha was a bit crazy, but even the sun seemed a little bit brighter when it shined in through the windows.

Not all of Beth's alcohol was gone just quite yet, but at least all the gin was, and she'd gone from allowing herself three drinks a day to only having one that was about half the amount she usually poured. Agatha was so proud of her mother for really sticking to her commitment and neither she nor Rooster had ever been happier. Sometimes, she didn't even want to go to school anymore; instead, she just wanted to stay home and talk to Beth about anything she wanted for hours on end. She had no friends at school and the only other person she had to vent to was six, so it was nice for Agatha to finally have someone to talk to.

When she wasn't taking care of her children or the house, Beth was looking into the custody situation with Steve and trying to figure out how she could keep him as far away from the kids as humanly possible. It was a bit tricky, however, for two reasons. The first one was that since Beth hadn't held a job for almost five years, she had virtually no money in her bank account to pay for a lawyer. Because of this, she'd had to resort to books at the library for legal advice.

The second reason was what made the whole situation much more complex than it really should've been: Beth and Steve were still, legally at least, married. Most of the time, Beth refused to acknowledge this fact, but in this case she just couldn't. They were still married, which meant Steve still technically had custody of Agatha and Rooster. She was terrified he'd bring this up in court and tell the judge she was keeping them away out of malice. If he did, he'd undoubtedly be granted with whatever he wanted and leave the rest of them to be miserable.

"Oh dammit, how the hell am I supposed to do this?!" Beth quietly yelled to herself, flipping frantically through one of her books as she tried to absorb last-minute advice. It was nearly eleven on Thursday and Beth was freaking out. The hearing was less than twelve hours away and she felt no confidence whatsoever going into this.

Tomorrow, she would have to sit in a courtroom and listen as her so-called husband petitioned to have her children be in his care. Tomorrow, their entire lives could change and Beth was terrified.

Well, at least she'd have Agatha and Rooster there in the room with her. It'd been Agatha's idea initially to come along with Beth for moral support, and at first she had been totally against it, but as she thought about it more, she couldn't find a solid reason to say no. Her children deserved to know what kind of horrible person their father was. And plus, it wasn't as if Beth had anyone else out there on her side. The only people she talked to were her children and as far as she was concerned, going into this alone wasn't an option.

* * *

Agatha tightly bit her lip as she curled up underneath the pathetic sheets her father had given her and listened to the sickening sound of Steve making out with a woman who was only a couple years older than herself. It was Friday and after an emotional day in court, Agatha was now in her new 'home', or at least as it was for half of the calendar year.

She was sickened by how things in court had turned out. The excuse her father had used was that he'd been 'too young and immature' seven years ago to be a parent and he'd 'decided to give his children the best life possible' by letting Beth take over. Somehow, he failed to mention the fact that Beth was the one who left and that even though he knew they were homeless, he didn't do a single thing about it.

Agatha had been expecting her mother to counter Steve's claim with this fact, but Beth surprised her by simply nodding her head and agreeing with every lie that came out of her father's mouth. Agatha had asked her mother after the jury was adjourned why she did this and Beth's answer was heartbreaking: this was a 'he said, she said' situation and she had no evidence to back up what they knew to be fact. Plus, it was useless to argue.

Agatha had been given no time to reply before she was whisked away, along with Rooster, to go to Steve's home. The only word the girl had to describe the place was this: revolting. There was a strong odor Agatha couldn't differentiate between spoiled food and dead animal, the rooms were barely big enough to fit more than two people, the carpets were stained, and the room she and Rooster had to share had only one bed that could barely fit the little boy, so Agatha was forced to sleep on the disgusting floor.

According to her parent's custody agreement, she was stuck here for two weeks. By now, she'd run out of tears to cry anymore about the situation and her sadness had turned into anger. She missed her mother so much and she so desperately just wanted to leave, but she couldn't. She was stuck again, and it was almost worse this time around because she was old enough to understand her father only asked for custody so he could control Beth's life even further.

She and Rooster were nothing but pawns in their father's sickening game of chess.

And this realisation almost hurt more than the fact that her father hated her.


End file.
